


Maskerade and Maze

by BadassIndustries



Series: Dancing Through Life [7]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Complete Gender Equality, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Betaed, Fluff and Romance, Nonbinary Jehan, Other, Period-Typical Homophobia? don't know her, Regency Romance, This story is finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadassIndustries/pseuds/BadassIndustries
Summary: Jehan Prouvaire, the cosseted only child of an overbearing Baronet, longs for Life, Adventure and Romance. Montparnasse, the charming son of an influential courtesan, finds himself wishing he could be everything they wish for.A romance told in three parts





	1. At the Maskerade

There was a man staring at Jehan. A man who, however refined, Jehan hesitated to call a gentleman. There was a certain something in his air that marked him as no mere member of the gentry. He was dressed as Harlequino. The costume became him very well, but it wasn't very adventurous, not as colourful as it ought to be.

Jehan themself had had to deal with secrecy and no time to prepare, but had they had the leisure, they would have gone as Mary Queen of Scots or Lady Jane Grey. Unfortunately, the necessity for secrecy and the lack of forewarning meant they had had to make do. Bahorel had only come up with the scheme two days ago, so Jehan was forced to settle for portraying Juliet in her shroud. It was the best they could do without alerting their mother to the fact that Jehan was not in fact dining with Bahorel’s aunt.

Kind as Bahorels aunt was, the opera house was much more exciting than dining with relations. The place was filled with people in exotic and glittering costumes, hiding scandals in the shadow. Their mother would have a conniption if she saw in which company Jehan now found themself. Nice young gentles just did not attend Maskerades. And they definitely did not boldly go up to the handsome Harlequino who was observing them from the shadows. But Jehan was determined to show that they were not cowed by his regard. Besides, the man lounged in a spot that Jehan would have to pass to get to the stage, and no young men who dared to mute Harlequino’s bright colours would stop Jehan from inspecting the stage further.

They set off with a glance backwards for Bahorel, who was lost in the throng of dancers. When they passed the young man, he tipped his hat at Jehan in an infuriating languid manner. Jehan immediately turned back, going on their tiptoes to ensure a good view of the man's eyes, despite his domino mask. They were so absorbed in scrutinising him, they nearly forgot to return his silent greeting.

His smile spoke of far too great a certainty of his personal beauty.

"How do you do, fair Capulet?" said Harlequino, which did him credit. No one else tonight had recognised Jehan.

"I am very well, monsieur Harlequino,” said Jehan, undaunted, “I saw you looking around. Were you looking for your Columbine?"

The man smiled, surprised.

"Well, I wasn't expecting her, but perhaps I have found her. You do not strike me as the sort to frequent the dark places of the city. Did you sneak away from Capulets to come here? Or perhaps from Pantalone?"

His real smile was a lot more charming than his fake composure and Jehan felt the wish they had met at a normal party. A maskerade was no place for frank discussion. But perhaps this young man might be interested in the mysteries of the stage too. They turned towards the candlelit stage, smiling invitingly at the man.

"I came this way to discover the secrets this stage might hold. Surely the nightly tragedies will have left a trace I could find."

"Are you certain you want to do such a dangerous thing?" The man bend towards them with a mysterious smile and in an intimate whisper told them of the famous soprano who succumbed right on that very stage. He was trying to frighten them.

Jehan smiled a beautific smile and offered the young man their arm. "With such horrors before us, how can we not venture into the unknown?"

Harlequino accepted their arm, but looked rather uncertain. When Jehan pulled him into the dark tunnels backstage his face turned concerned.

"Are you quite sure, little Capulet? We could get lost in these tunnels and I am a stranger , I'm not sure whether we should-"

Jehan smiled and patted his hand, still in the crook of their arm. They smiled up at him with such warmth Harlequino seemed stunned by it.

"Do not worry, mon chevalier, I will protect you."

“It is not ghosts, I am worried about, it is just that my friend told me of the many people who have gotten lost in these tunnels. Phantoms are of no concern at all, it’s just that it wouldn’t be proper, now would it.” He tried to hide his concern behind a condescending smirk. Jehan was quite sure that were they to hear an otherworldly aria, this handsome Harlequino who only played at chivalry would be very frightened indeed.

“If you will protect me from the horrors of being alone here, I will protect you from any phantoms that may linger in these haunted tunnels.”

And they pulled him along, past the dressing rooms and cellars, through all the dark corners that might have served as the last stage for the unfortunate diva. Away from the crowd, Harlequino became easy, smiling freely and talking animatedly. No phantoms were uncovered and no names exchanged, but Jehan was sure this was the most enchanting evening they had enjoyed their entire life. They knew they had to go, but they did not want to part from him. He had told such delightful stories of punishing the wicked and robbing the rich. Maybe if they asked nicely, he would steal them away too. Jehan really did not want to leave this charming young man behind just yet and he seemed as reluctant to part as Jehan was.

"I will see you again." Jehan assured him with perfect certainty, when the hour that Bahorel had ordered the carriage for finally drew near. They smiled behind their mask, took up Harlequino's hand a pressed a light kiss to his knuckles. He smiled at them a fleeting moment, turned, and disappeared into the shadows.

"Until we meet again, mon Chevalier." They whispered. When their Chevalier had disappeared into the shadows again, they found Bahorel and allowed him to help them into the carriage. As the carriage set off they made sure to kiss their hand to the shadows, where they were sure their chevalier was waiting, watching them.


	2. In the Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the night of the de Courfeyrac ball, Jehan escapes from the ballroom in search of a solitary adventure. Instead, they find Montparnasse.

Jehan Prouvaire, only child of a baronet and apple of her eye, was trying very hard to evade attention. Their evasive manoeuvres started with a feint to the cloakroom, a diversion in the direction of the balcony, and ultimately an escape through the French windows. The heat of the ballroom was oppressive and all of Courfeyrac’s admirers were so bold and expressive it made Jehan feel shy. That combined with the fact that their mother would surely fuss over them and make them sit down when they wanted movement and force them onto the dancefloor when they wanted rest, a timely escape was the best way to turn this evening into a success. The de Courfeyracs had extensive gardens, including a marvellous maze which would surely be magnificent in the dark of night.

Feeling once more bold, fleeing a party all alone, no chaperone in sight, they lifted up their skirts and started running.

The excitement of running in the dark in dancing slippers, heedless of damage or danger to themself or their gown, was exhilarating. They tried a few dancing steps on the music they could no longer hear, preferring to dance with the moonlight rather than the proper society performing propriety in the ballroom. The started twirling, faster and faster, towards the gates that led to the maze. Giggling in delight when everything blurred and their head started spinning too, until suddenly it stopped with a crash. Jehan stumbled and would have fallen, had the author of their crash not stopped their fall and caught them securely against him. All Jehan could see was the shoulder of a fine dark coat, an edge of a crisp white cravat, and the garden spinning around them. The man put them back on their feet carefully and Jehan blushed at the apologies they must make to this party guest for crashing into his attempt to take refuge in the gardens. But raising their eyes to his face, they saw this was no guest. This was their Chevalier. A bright smile spread over their delicate features.

“Why, it’s my Chevalier, come to save me from spinning away into oblivion. How do you come to be here, sir?”

They smiled at the Harlequino they had met at the Maskerade they ought not to have attended, the beautiful man behind the domino mask who took them away from the noise of the party and told them tales of daring crimes and tragic ghosts all night long. And now he was here, in Monsieur de Courfeyrac’s rose garden. But why was he here?

“Have you come to rob the party? Where the tales of clever theft your own adventures? Chevalier one night, Gentleman Thief another? I’m afraid I can’t allow you to steal from this party, some of my dear friends are in attendance.”

Mister Erstwhile Harlequino’s handsome face displayed an elegant smirk. “I may not be a member of the quality as those fools in that ballroom pride themselves on being, but I’ve no need to sink so low.”

He leant elegantly against the gate, a picture of beautiful disdain. His hat and dark hair nearly disappeared against the night sky and the moon lit his face starkly, so he looked almost otherworldly. Had they not seen him scared of ghosts (and sworn to protect him from them) they would be certain he was one of the Fair Folk.

“Oh, are you not? I did not know. You have not even given me your name, so I was forced to conclude you were a gentleman thief on the run from the law, forced to secrecy. You did tell me many detailed stories of ingenious crimes. And tonight you are here without an invitation.” Jehan took a few steps closer so they could see his reaction better. The shades cast by the entrance made it hard to see, but they were sure he was hiding a smile.

“How do you know I haven’t been invited?” said the man, who was dressed decidedly more elegant than one would expect from a dastardly highwayman. He smiled broadly, looking very different from a moment before when he was hiding true amusement. This smile was more like a trap, one Jehan would not allow themselves to stumble into.

“Why, because I have not heard of you,” they replied lightly, “and Courfeyrac always makes sure the entire neighbourhood knows when he has gained a new beautiful friend.” The confidence in their voice was belied by the fact that they could not quite look at the man directly. Had they been able to lift their eyes up from the rose bushes, they could have seen a smile being quickly hidden.

“You are quite right, I was not invited. But I came merely to see some friends who were fortunate enough to get an invitation. And I am called Montparnasse, but pray don’t ask me for my family name, for I am bound not to mention it.”

Jehan thought Montparnasse was a suitably pretty name, but the mystery of having no last name to give was even more beautiful.

“I suppose,” they took another step closer, “you must go and see your friends then?”

Montparnasse looked at Jehan, with their looks falling down around their cheeks flushed from dancing.

“They will wait. Tell me first why you were outside, instead of dancing with your suitors.” Montparnasse turned slightly, so he was standing in the shades of the maze, invisible from the house.

“The maze,” said Jehan, and the full moon could not dim the stars in their eyes, “I wanted to see the maze in moonlight.”

“Well then,” said Montparnasse, holding the gate open for them, “may I accompany you there, Jehan Prouvaire?”

***

Jehan slipped past Montparnasse in a flurry of silk and had already slipped around the corner before Montparnasse could collect himself and follow them.

“My Chevalier may accompany me anywhere,” said Jehan, hidden behind the hedges, a smile dancing in their voice. Montparnasse chased after them, but could not catch them until he stumbled upon them sitting on a stone bench in a dead end, smoothing down their skirts demurely, but with mischief in their eyes.

Montparnasse, trying very hard to hide the fact he had been running, smoothly sat down next to them. The flounce of their skirt brushed against his trousers, moonlit silk a contrast against the dark broadcloth.

"Are you sure you don't want to steal this monstrous collier?” said Jehan, turning towards him with a twinkle in their eye, “It's dreadfully ugly but nothing would do for my mother but my wearing it tonight."  
  
"My sweet little Robin,” said Montparnasse, carefully not thinking of sliding the offending jewellery of their pale neck, “there is no need to divide riches quite like that. For the price of not claiming my rightful name, I am well provided for. I was a thief only for the Maskerade. I don't need to take anything from you."

Jehan pouted prettily. "Not even if I ask you to?"

"Not even then. You are far too dear to get you into trouble over such an ugly bauble."

Jehan’s shawl slipped a little, revealing a pale neck hung with the heavy diamond collier. Montparnasse carefully pulled it back up, so they wouldn't get cold. They shivered anyway.   
Without knowing why, Montparnasse found himself talking of other parties he’d attended, other mysteries he’d think Jehan would enjoy. In turn, they spoke of poetry and tragedy and secrets they would only spill in moonlight. They did not know how long they spent together, hidden in the maze, but Montparnasse knew they ought to leave soon, because surely Jehan’s friends would come looking for them. He offered to walk them back, so he could spend just a little more time in their company.

***

Jehan momentarily entertained the idea of faking weakness and requesting the support of Montparnasse’s arm. It was dreadfully forward, but at this moment the mere idea of Montparnasse’s arm around their waist sounded like a forbidden delight they would do anything to taste. They had already led them the wrong way, picking dead ends and circling paths, because they did not want to say goodbye to Montparnasse. Montparnasse did not seem to wish to leave either, walking slowly before suddenly coming to a halt.

"Stay, Jehan, the bushes have you in their grasp," Montparnasse came closer, to free the hem of their gown from the low branch it had stuck on.

"You'll tear your fine lace" he chided, smiling up at them. Jehan had the sudden wish that they might find some leaves stuck in Montparnasse’s hair, that they might have some pretence to touch his hair. Leaves where forever getting stuck in Jehan’s hair.

"What care I for lace," said Jehan, "when all it does is get me trapped." Trapped in mazes, hedgerows and societal pressure to keep lace in immaculate condition, while any person with a rushing heartbeat knows life is made to run through with abandon and no care for such paltry things as easily torn gowns.

"It becomes you very well" said Montparnasse, who was sporting lovely lace ruffles himself. He was still in a crouch next to Jehan, looking up at them with a wonderful smile. Jehan could not help but extend their hand to him, to help him up and keep him close. Montparnasse gave his hand without question and Jehan tucked it into the crook of their elbow, where their long evening gloves had rolled down. With Montparnasse on their arm, his soft gloves against their bare skin, they walked along the terrace, back to the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was meant to be only Jehan trying to convince Montparnasse to steal their necklace. I don't know what happened either, but I'm enjoying the dramatic romance of it all. Let me know what you thought!


	3. In the Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After meeting twice in moonlight, Montparnasse seeks Jehan out in the light of day. Much to his surprise, he finds Jehan in much more shocking attire in a sunny country lane than at an illicit masked ball...

Montparnasse had, after careful enquiry, found out where he might find Jehan Prouvaire on a sunny Saturday morning. Jehan, or so his discreet informants told him, preferred to spend fine days outside, wandering through fields and lanes. And, since Jehan had earnestly and with hopeful eyes asked to see him again, a country lane was were Montparnasse now also found himself.

He generally eschewed the country, preferring to stay in his mother’s townhouse, were they were lauded as the jewels of the _demi-monde_. Here in the country, among the gentry, he did not get half as many compliments. But still quite as many sighs from the young gentles admiring his beauty, he thought with a smile. But the particular young gentle whose admiration he would most like to have was nowhere to be found.

On closer consideration, perhaps they were not quite as unfindable as he thought, since a nearby bush seemed to have inexplicably grown a leaf-green coat.

Sure enough, leaving the lane and passing under a few trees was enough to find Jehan sitting in the grass, surrounded by their hat and several books and papers. Their waistcoat was embroidered with delicate nightingales singing in a brightly coloured background. It spoke simultaneously of exquisite workmanship and a complete lack of taste when it came to colour. However wild Jehan took delight into being, they would surely not appreciate him running his fingers over his chest, just to feel the raised embroidery. It was very tempting, in a way Montparnasse was not used to denying himself. At present they were completely absorbed in their book, pink lips moving slightly with their reading.

Montparnasse moved to come closer and greet Jehan, but stopped in horror. Not only were they exposing their shirtsleeves to the world, Jehan’s boots were scuffed and encrusted with mud and possibly other countryside unmentionables. They seemed to be glowing with happiness and freedom. They lounged around in indecent attire like it was the finest ballgown. Montparnasse considered his own many-caped greatcoat and carefully hung it folded over a nearby tree branch. Something about Jehan Prouvaire made him want to match their daring.

"Where is your fine gown, Jehan Prouvaire?"

Jehan looked up, startled. Delight took over their face when they saw who had intruded upon their solitude.

"Oh hello, sir Knight! I am so pleased to see you. And Mother says that if I mean to tear my muslins on rosebushes, I might as well wear breeches."

"A grave punishment, even for a crime so heinous as mistreating your finery."

"Oh no! It suits me perfectly!" cried they, eager to deny any dislike of their self-chosen wardrobe.

It did suit them very well, which brought onto Montparnasse certain feelings of despair. Breeches that bold ought not to suit anyone and ought to preferably be never seen outside of the theatre.

“I am very glad to see you, Montparnasse. I did not think we would find a way to meet so soon.” They put down their book to come shake his hand. Only when he had already trapped their hand within his, did he notice that they were even more improperly dressed than he had imagined.

“Where are your gloves?” was all he could say. Jehan was just sitting here, in a sunny open space, were anybody could walk by and see them. Their sleeves were loose and fell over their bare hands and there was a leaf in Jehan’s hair. They looked positively wild.

“Oh, I’d only spoil them,” said Jehan, without a care.

Montparnasse suddenly felt himself to be very strict and staid, with his coat still all done up, a dashing figure to be sure, but nothing to the sheer freedom that Jehan seemed to exude. For a moment he contemplated loosening his cravat, or even taking off his coat. But this lane, away from everything as it was, did not afford them the privacy he wished for. If anybody came upon them, alone together in their underclothes, Jehan would be ruined forever.

Jehan did not seem to have similar qualms. They were still standing close and smiling up at Montparnasse brightly.

“You know,” said Jehan, inching even closer, “at the ball that night I wondered if you might be one of the Lords and Ladies. The Fair Folk, I mean. You do appear as if by magic whenever I steal away to be alone.”

“Shall I go then? If you wish to be alone?” asked Montparnasse, stepping back to put some more distance between them. If Jehan only wanted to meet him in moonlight, he could live with that.

“No, because whenever you appear I find I’d much rather spend my stolen time with you.”

Jehan was so close, boldly taking Montparnasse’s hand again, even though they blushed through their bravery. To his horror, Montparnasse felt his own cheeks heat up too.

“Jehan Prouvaire, an honourable man would warn you to protect your reputation.”

"Oh, and are you not an honourable man?" said Jehan with a pretty pout, which would have been more effective without the leaf stuck behind their ear. It still had more of an effect on Montparnasse than he wished for.

"Oh no, I am a scoundrel I'm afraid." Montparnasse tried to pull off his habitual smirk, but Jehan’s fingers had found the button on his leather gloves and had started playing with it. Montparnasse pulled away and, to give himself a reason to look away from their bright, dark eyes, languidly took off his gloves.

"And were you any richer you'd be a rake, no doubt"

Jehan was outright grinning now, obviously not deterred by the warning at all.

“So, since you are not an honourable man, you will not mind the impropriety that comes with my honesty? Because I have a great deal to say to you and most of it is highly indecorous.”

Montparnasse looked up from his gloves with a start. Jehan looked proud of the way they had shocked him into giving up his façade of disinterest.

“To start with, I am in a very fair way to fall in love with you and I mean to go on as I started. With your permission, I would make a very bold claim for your affections.”

Montparnasse felt his knees go weak and had there been any option but the dirty ground, he would have sat down. Jehan was staring up at him, with a sweet smile on their face and complete faith in their welcome. That they would trust him so completely, after so few meetings. But they seemed to know him through and through, they knew whenever he tried to hide his emotions, saw through his pretty deceit right into his true self.

“You will let me, won’t you, Parnasse? I feel like you are already my own, but if I am wrong—”

Montparnasse dropped his gloves to the ground in favour of catching Jehan’s hands in his.

“You would claim my affections, my little Jehan? And well you may, because your strange sorcery has quite stolen my heart. I thought the moment I saw you that you were a thieving little faerie.”

“Well that is not fair,” said Jehan with victory shining in their eyes, “I called you Fae first. And you are the Gentleman Thief that stole my heart at the opera house, so I think it only fair I stole your heart back.”

This led to Jehan and Montparnasse sinking down to the ground, sharing stories of Elves and Fairies, until faraway church bells alerted them to the fact Jehan would be looked for soon.

“Might I beg a lock of your hair?” said Montparnasse, unwilling to part from them, “ I know we could not be seen in company together, but I do wish you’d give me some token to remember you by—” He was interrupted by Jehan coming closer, playing with his fingers and raising his hand to their face.

“Wouldn’t you rather have a kiss? If it’s something to remember me by, what better than a delightful memory?”

They smiled at him impishly and turned their head to press a soft kiss to the palm of his hand. Montparnasse felt himself lost for words, lost in the sensation of Jehan’s lips on his skin.

“You do know I have a fortune of my own? And since I am of age, my parents cannot stop me from marrying whomever I should wish to marry,” they beamed. “Why, I have even saved enough of my pin money that I might buy a special licence and I need only apply to one or two friends to make up the full amount. As soon as I come of age, my fortune will be mine to do with as I wish. My freedom and my future are mine entirely.”

They still held Montparnasse’s hand, held it pressed to their soft cheek. With every smile and every word his fingertips touched a different freckle. And Jehan’s words kept flowing.

“I do own I’d prefer a romance to a boring old courtship, but it is pure nonsense that you say we could not be seen together. We could certainly go to a musicale together.”

Montparnasse envisioned the look on the Baronet’s face, should he call on them. The impertinence it would be for someone of his objectionable background to ask permission to court Jehan. How could he explain to Jehan that courtisan’s sons only got offered marriage with the left hand? And then he stopped. Had he not strived his whole life to surround himself with the luxury and beauty so long denied him? Was Jehan not the most beautiful thing he could never own? If Jehan wanted to have a romance with him, if Jehan had no concern to spare for what Society would think, then whyever would Montparnasse deny himself the indulgence of returning Jehan’s love?

“Montparnasse, may I?” said Jehan and Montparnasse’s thoughts were abruptly forgotten when Jehan brought their face closer to his. He could not help but steal a glance at their mouth, curved in a sweet, self-satisfied smile. Jehan smiled wider at his stunned silence and softly pressed a kiss to Montparnasse’s mouth. Montparnasse repaid their boldness in kind, brushing soft kisses to their cheeks and lips until the only thing he could think of was the touch of their hands and the softness of their skin.

When Jehan truly had no choice but to return home, they followed the lane back to the village, Jehan with their muddy boots and Montparnasse with both their coats over his arm. As long as there was no one to see them, they kept their hands entwined. And with Jehan’s hand in his and their cheerful voice in his ear, Montparnasse silently thanked the heavens that he was not the kind of man to deny himself indulgences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of Jehan and Montparnasse's dramatic Romance. Well, not really, because I'm still working on a scene that introduces Jehan's parents and their opinions on this match (don't worry, it's me so there will be no angst) Look for that in the compilation of short stories, A Lovely Night.
> 
> Many thanks to Sunfreckle who kinda made me write this and also betaed it for me. Love ya sis!
> 
> For those of you wondering what's next in this universe, I'm still working on the Eposette Epic which is inching towards 10k. In the meantime I've got at least 2 short stories to tide you over. I'm also open to requests, if there's something you'd like to see!  
> I want to thank all of you who've read this silly story and commented or left kudos. It means a lot to me and keeps me writing! Getting to know which pieces you enjoyed really makes my day!

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for my darling Sunfreckle, who loves Jehanparnasse and begged me to at least write a little bit of their story.  
> Please let me know what you think, especially as I went with a more dramatic romancy style for this one. Comments and kudos make my day!


End file.
